Midsummer magic Last night, Midsummer's eve, was a beautiful evening in Milwaukee, and,a bit after 9:30, we went out to take a walk in the air. We decided towalk to one of our "magic" places, a couple of acres of meadowland alongthe Kinnickinnic parkway, dominated by an old oak tree. The oak standsalone, and bears the scars of two separate lightning strikes, whichwould make it doubly sacred according to some traditions I have heard.It is also hollow, and lost much of its upper branches due to age, butis still leafing out in spring and bearing acorns, and so is a symbol ofendurance for us. Late June is the beginning of firefly season, and we were particularlylooking for them. We saw a few of the common yellow-green types alongthe way. (Fireflies can be distinguished by their pattern of flashing.One common type, usually later in the year, lights in a rising, waveringline. Another, the ones we were seeing, gives a steady blink of asecond or so as it flies along wherever it is going.) At the old oak, I looked to the west edge of the meadow and saw a goodlynumber of tiny lights flickering in the wood's edge. We walked overthere to investigate. What we saw was evidently a species of firefly wehad not observed before: smaller, and actually blue-white in color, likestars in the bushes. They blinked with a very brief, but bright light,true "lightning bugs". Moreover, from where we stood, there wereliterally hundreds visible, ranging from the grass at our feet to thenearby treetops. The constantly changing rapid blinking was likefireworks, a genuine natural coruscation. We watched in wonder as thedarkness grew and the frequency of flashes declined slowly, to the pointwhere we could bear to look away. We took the path homeward, elated thatwe had witnessed some real Midsummer magic.